


Not Beyond Repair

by TheNovelistHobbyist



Series: Heathers AU [2]
Category: Heathers (1988), Heathers: The Musical - Murphy & O'Keefe
Genre: F/M, JD isnt dead AU, JD redemption arc, Veronica and Betty are college roomies
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-18
Updated: 2019-05-19
Packaged: 2019-10-12 00:01:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 13
Words: 16,421
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17456783
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheNovelistHobbyist/pseuds/TheNovelistHobbyist
Summary: This is meant to be a sequel to Far Too Damaged but you can skip straight to this if you prefer.Veronica carried on her life after JD died. She managed to keep their secret and left Ohio as soon as she got the chance. Three years later she is living in an apartment with her friend Betty Finn and ending her junior year of college. She thinks her connection to Sherwood, and her criminal past, are over. That is, until she finds out JD is still alive.





	1. Anthony and Cleopatra

              College was paradise compared to Westerberg High. Veronica had chosen to take a place at the University of Chicago. It was a well rated school, and they had a fantastic English department. It was only a three and a half hour drive from her parents, and Sherwood, but it felt worlds away. Veronica felt less and less burdened by what she had done in high school the longer she was away. Kurt, Ram, and Heather still made regular visits but it no longer frightened her.

              The biggest issue on her mind these days was what to do after college. She was finishing her final semester, and had clue what career path she was on. Her professors were always ready to make suggestions. Her freshman screenwriting professor was insistent that she should write crime novels after her submission for their Halloween assignment. It had been a short story about a cheerleader who murdered higher ranking squad members until she was finally nominated captain. While she saw the appeal, and possible success, there was no way that was going to happen. Any and all of her works would bear some resemblance to the actual murders she had committed, and were that case ever re-opened could prove very incriminating.

              For now she just needed to focus on finishing her thesis. She had chosen literary analysis and was exploring the way that violence and seduction are related in literature. She had waltzed into it thinking that her personal experiences would make it easy to write. She was so wrong. Her source material was spread all around her at her dining room table and her laptop was nearly dead with little progress made.

              “Ronnie, you should really take a break.”

              Veronica sighed, “Yeah Betty, I guess you`re right.”

              Betty Finn had forgiven Veronica for ditching her pretty much immediately after the explosion. It made her feel guilty after all of the things that she had done. Rather than reject a friendship she sorely needed, Veronica spent the rest of the year making it up to her. Now three years later they lived together in a cheap apartment three blocks from campus.

Betty was a junior, Veronica should be but she had stayed and taken extra classes their first summer to avoid going back to Ohio. Betty wanted to be a veterinarian. It seemed like the perfect career for her. She was a wonderful student who loved science and her compassionate nature meant that she was great with animals. She was sitting on their couch watching a documentary series.

“Want to order takeout?” She smiled when Veronica came to sit beside her.

“Totally. I can buy this time, it`s my turn.”

              After plowing through containers of fried rice and putting away their leftovers, the girls both returned to their work. Betty had a test in the morning so she turned off the TV and sat at the couch with a textbook in her lap. Veronica was staring at her research, trying to make it all fit together.

              “How`s it going?” Heather Chandler seemed to only appear at the worst times.

              _“Go away. I only have two more weeks to finish this.”_

              “Someone`s testy.”

              In the end Veronica fell asleep at the table rereading her notes. She had chosen six classical romance novels to read and analyze for her thesis, yet somehow came up flat on how to put it all together. Her dreams that night were a muddled mess full of secret passageways and thunderstorms.

              Veronica awoke to the smell of coffee. Betty was already up and getting ready.

              “I made enough for us both. If you hurry we can walk over together.”

              Veronica scampered to her bedroom, nearly tripping over her own feet. She was absolutely exhausted. Still, she managed to throw on jeans and a sweater and run a brush through her hair in less than ten minutes. She threw on her favorite pair of flats and grabbed her bag off her floor.

              “Alright, I`m ready!”

              Betty smiled, handing her a thermos of coffee.

              “How do you always do the most considerate thing possible?”

              Betty laughed “Stop that, it`s just a thermos. Come on silly.”

              The two girls walked arm in arm to the university, and separated with a wave and a smile. Veronica made a beeline for her brick English building, where she had a class on Shakespeare. She slid into her seat five minutes before class started, and took a sip of her coffee.

              The class was always one of her favorites. It was never very eventful and she had always read the material before, which was perfect. She had taken familiarity for granted in the past. Besides, with her thesis looming large she was grateful for classes that didn’t take up so much of her brainpower.

              After that class she had a few hours to kill. She sat in the courtyard reading her copy of Anthony and Cleopatra. Hopefully if she had her reading for class done before she got home she could devote the whole evening to her thesis. Veronica grew gradually more distracted as afternoon wore on. She hated having a two hour break before classes.

              Her phone buzzed in her pocket. Veronica jolted awake, a little embarrassed that she had fallen asleep reading. It did make her grateful that she had an alarm to remind her class was starting soon. Usually she needed it because she was so absorbed in what she was reading.

              _“Geez, what’s wrong with me today?”_

              While she dozed her book had fallen to the ground and was laying near her feet. She picked it up and tucked it into her messenger bag. She took just a moment to fix her hair and brush a few leaves off her pants. Then she walked quickly towards her next class.

              It was only three when Veronica was ready to leave campus. Betty had a class until four so they would both be walking home alone. In the afternoons Veronica didn’t mind walking by herself, it was only at night that the crowded streets seemed to crawl with danger. Besides, it was fall and a heavy sweater or jacket made discreetly carrying pepper spray very easy.

              Veronica loved the fall, it was probably her favorite season. She loved the way that the chill in the air nipped at her nose. The way that the leaves turned color made her walk home beautiful. She would probably have it be fall year-round if she could control the weather.

              Before she knew it she was tucked under a blanket on the couch. A steaming cup of tea sat on the little wood coffee table. She pulled her hair up into a lose ponytail, it was now a little past her shoulders, to keep it out of her face. She opened her book and decided she was absolutely going to finish it tonight.

              She opened to the page where she had left off, pen in hand. She generally annotated in the margins and tried to keep it small. That way she could add more on a second read, or ignore them if she was reading for pleasure. At the bottom the page however, was a very large note.

              _“I liked the movie better.”_

It was in her handwriting, but she knew with absolute certainty that she hadn`t written it.


	2. Moby Dick

Chapter 2

              It was only a little before five when Betty got home, but Veronica had already retreated to her room. She heard her come in but didn’t call out in greeting. She planned to just let her friend believe that she was asleep. It seemed like the easiest way to get the alone time she needed to organize her thoughts. Even Heather was conspicuously absent from her present turmoil.

              She had spent the past hour trying to work out what was going on. JD was alive, somehow. She knew it was possible that someone else knew how to forge and had copied her handwriting. What didn’t match up was who would have taken her book and done it while she slept. Whoever wrote it had taken a huge risk, she could have woken up at any moment. All of it just seemed like JD.

              She had no idea how to feel about that. On the one hand, feeling responsible for three deaths and not four would be good. Technically she hadn’t killed JD, but after his speech about dying if he couldn’t be with her only to turn up dead the next day… she had felt substantially guilty.

              Part of her was afraid he was there to kill her. After all, the last time he had left a book marked in her handwriting he had stormed into her bedroom with a gun. She hoped he didn’t mean her any harm but she really had no way of knowing. It seemed a little creepy to her that he would know her movements closely enough to write in her book today.

              _“Does he know where I live?”_

              She shook her head. There was nothing she could do tonight but lay awake and wonder. If he showed up, he showed up. If not... Then she would never know.

              She rolled over and buried her face in her pillow, cursing the part of her that wanted desperately to know where he was.

              _Veronica stood on the bank of the river that wound through Sherwood Ohio. The water was blue and held unimaginable depths. She felt the crunch of dirt and leaves beneath her bare feet. The breeze was cool and raised goosebumps on her arms and legs. She was standing in a navy bathing suit, with her hair loose on her shoulders. The tips barely touched her shoulders, just like in high school._

_“Veronica?”_

_She heard that voice, calling to her. The voice of a young god. She turned to try and find him. The wind whipped past her, urging her towards the water. She let her feet slip down the bank, feeling mud squish between her toes._

_“Veronica?”_

_She put a hand into the river, testing it. She couldn’t see the bottom so she didn’t dare step into it. The water was cold as ice, it made her fingers feel frozen._

_“Veronica!”_

_She saw a disturbance in the water a little ways further down. She raced along the edge of the water, looking for him. He had to be in the water. She had just reached the splashing when it stopped. Again she put her hand in the river, and felt nothing but cold._

_“Veronica!”_

_This time she spun, thinking he might be behind her. The movement caused her left foot to catch on a root, and sent her sprawling backwards. She fell into the river._

_The water was so cold it burned her skin. She was lost in it. The river was, as she had feared, infinitely deep. She kicked and pulled herself towards the surface, emerging with a scream._

_“Veronica.”_

_This time it was a whisper. She whirled, splashing recklessly._

_There he was. Shirtless, dark hair flowing into his eyes. He caught her in his arms._

_“All is forgiven baby” he purred. Then he pressed a kiss to her lips, a kiss which tasted of blood._

              Veronica awoke with a jolt. It was still dark out. She got up and got dressed blindly.

              With a cup of coffee in hand she sat down to finish her thesis. She finally had an idea, and a good one. She wrote about the way that danger is used to create excitement in literature, and that attaching danger and violence to romance allowed the suspense to build up. She based all of her examples around the idea that the violence, usually related to the man`s pursuit, all culminated to the most important kiss.

              She emailed the first draft to her advisor, glad to be finished. By then it was nine and she needed to get ready for class. Betty had her first class at noon, so Veronica would be walking alone. She grabbed her bag and her jacket from her room and started to head to class. On impulse she grabbed another book on her way out the door.

              When she got to school she sat on her favorite bench, thinking. She had fifteen minutes until her creative writing class started, so she had a little time. She pulled the book she had chosen out of her bag. It was a worn copy of Moby Dick, which she knew she would never read but could never bring herself to throw away. She flipped through the pages, looking at all the annotations made in her swirled cursive. She settled on the first page. She wrote in large printed letters “Property of Jason Dean.”

              Biting her lip, Veronica set the book on the bench. Without looking back she left it there and walked towards her class.


	3. Advice

Chapter 3

 

              Sitting through a class that morning was harder than she thought. She blindly took notes, hoping they were a fairly accurate transcription of the lecture that she was currently half-hearing. All of her focus was on that stupid book.

              _“Is he going to write back? Will he even see it?”_

              She tapped the toe of her shoe ferociously against the leg of her chair, as if the movement would speed the hands of the clock.

              When her professor finally picked up his briefcase and thanked them all for coming she was out of her seat in a flash. She raced down the hall, ignoring the looks of her fellow students. She took the stairs two at a time. When she got to the ground floor she was hit with a wave of anxiety. She had forgotten about the possibility that he wouldn’t answer, or that someone else would pick up the “forgotten” book.

              With far less haste she crossed courtyard to the bench. She saw the book, sitting almost exactly where she left it. She picked it up, turning it over in her hands. Electricity burned up her fingertips and she felt almost certain he had seen it. She was reassured that she was right when she noticed a new page was turned down at the corner.

              Veronica decided it was a bad idea to sit and read it here. She would be way too tempted to reply right away, and that was more likely to end up with the book lost for real overnight. Besides, it seemed immature in a way to be unable to wait a few more minutes. She had no classes that afternoon, Fridays were her most relaxing days, so she tucked the book in her bag and headed home.

              The apartment was empty when she returned home. Veronica poured herself a glass of water and sat down at the table. By then the book was starting to burn a hole in her bag. She pulled it out, and ran her thumb down the spine.

              _“Breathe Veronica.”_

              When she opened to the newly marked page she immediately found his note. This time it was written in his own handwriting, a very symmetrical and wide-set print. All he had written was, “Miss me?”. Veronica groaned, leave it to JD to start off with the hardest question possible.

              She knew she would write back to him. She practically had no choice, she needed answers to her questions. She wanted to know how he had found her here, to start with. She wanted to ask about his life since Sherwood and if he was still leading a criminal double life. Most of all she wanted to know how, and why, he had convinced everyone he was dead.

              Veronica didn’t realize how long she had been lost in thought until Betty`s key turned in the lock. She made up her mind right then to ask for advice from her best friend. She would leave out the worst parts, the illegal parts, and see what Betty had to say.

              “Ronnie, you look white as a sheet!”

              Betty always knew when something was wrong. Veronica was relieved that she didn’t have to be the one to start a conversation, she was better at hiding from her problems than addressing them. “Yeah, boy troubles.”

              “Really?” Betty dumped her bag on the floor and sat down across from her. “Who is he?”

              Veronica grimaced. “You remember JD from high school?”

              “The.. dead one?”

              “Well yes and no. He isn’t dead, apparently. I don’t really have all the details. I think maybe they found him and his dad took him somewhere outside Ohio for treatment. It was a failed attempt, I think.” Veronica hoped Betty wouldn’t realize how much of her story she was making up as she went along.

              “Why didn’t anyone find out years ago?”

              “I don’t think he wanted anyone to know. We had had a huge fight right before, so he definetly didn’t want me to know something so personal.”

              “Okay. Well, what about him?”

              “He, kind of, reached out to me.”

              “To say what?”

              “To ask if I missed him.”

              Betty gave her a long look accompanied by a sigh. “Don’t you?”

              “What’s that supposed to mean?”

              “Oh come on, we both know you haven’t had a steady boyfriend since JD. I always assumed you were still traumatized by his death. This is your shot.”

              “Thank you.” She gave her best friend a quick hug and went back to her room to think of a reply.

              She sat on her bed, holding the book in her lap. She flipped three pages forward from JD`s note and dog-eared the page. She picked up a pen and bit her lip. She still had no idea how to put things into words.

              “You really think all of this is that easy?”

              “Heather.”

              “Who else would it be? The Ghost of Christmas Past?”

              “Shut up.”

              “You really took advice from sweet little Miss Finn? Sweet girls aren’t good with psycho murderer ex-boyfriend advice. You might not like me but you have to admit I`m better qualified.”

              “Why would you want to help me?”

              “I`m dead because of him. I think I have a right to make my case.”

              “Fine, go ahead.”

              Heather smiled and smoothed her hair. “Jesse James was a sack of shit. Seriously, he killed me and turned you into a man-shooting-bitch. So keep that in mind. Do you like who you are when youre with him? Not to mention, you get so wrapped up in him that you`d do anything. Do you want to commit murder again?”

              “Thank you Heather.”

              With a wave of her hand the blonde vanished.

              _“Shit, what do I do. Betty is right that I`m not over it, and that this is the only second chance we`re likely to get. Then again, so is Heather. He is a murderer and I am too, doesn’t that make us a dangerous match? How can I know if he’s changed or not?”_

              She sat for a moment, thinking. Then wrote the only honest thing she could: “Parts of you.”


	4. Miss Me?

Chapter 4

              Veronica was relieved, and surprised, when she managed to get a dreamless sleep. She knew that any and all of them would have been about JD. She didn’t need any more reason to add to her answer or give away just how desperate she was to find out what he was thinking.

              _“God that feels pathetic. He could be toying with me here and I’m ready to melt for him.”_

              She got dressed quickly, not needing to check the news to know it would be cold. She threw on dark jeans and a blue sweater with a striped scarf. Her bag was still packed from the night before but she triple checked that she had put Moby Dick back inside of it.

              When she stepped out into the kitchen she was alone. On Fridays she and Betty walked to their morning classes together. While she waited for Betty to finish getting ready she turned on the coffee pot. She pulled two thermoses out of the cupboard while it brewed.

              “That smells great.” Betty came out, still pulling her hair into a ponytail.

              “Thanks, how’d you sleep?”

              “Pretty good, I woke up a little late though.”

              Veronica filled the thermoses and handed one to her friend. “Don`t worry, we`ll still get there in plenty of time.”

              The two of them walked in comfortable silence most of the way to campus. Each of them clasped their coffee tightly in their hands to warm their fingertips. When they reached the front gate they parted, as usual, with a relaxed wave. The girls had known each other too long to fuss much over hellos and goodbyes.

              Veronica dropped Moby Dick on the bench on her way to class, hoping she would be back for it very soon. Her Shakespeare class was nearly torturous. They spent the day talking about love, the worst possible topic for her to be dwelling on at the moment. Every single time her classmates argued back and forth about whether love was about fate or about choice, or what Mr. Shakespeare would think, her chest grew tighter.

              “Veronica?” her professor snapped her from her daydream. “Care to weigh in?”

              “Uh, yes.” She took a breath and collected her thoughts. “I think Shakespeare didn’t know either, he contradicts himself. In some of his plays he makes the lovers out to be fated, or that’s how we interpret them. But his sonnets make it seem like we choose to be in love and that is why it is sometimes unrequited.”

              She listened patiently to his response, before returning to zoning out. She wanted to listen, really she did, but today it just seemed impossible. The question felt too personal.

              _“Does he miss me too?”_

              She felt like she could finally breathe again when class ended. She gathered her things and made it downstairs in record time. The book had been left for her with a new folded page, exactly like last time. She had time to sit before her next class, so she decided to read it. It felt a little greedy, to ask for two answers in a day, but she was going to try leaving it again. If he hadn’t answered when she was leaving her next class she could just take it home with her. The fact that she would go without an answer all weekend suddenly stung.

              She opened to the marked page. All he had written was “what parts of me?” and it made her sigh. It was unsurprising that he wasn’t willing to volunteer any information until absolutely necessary. She knew, or had once believed, it was because he had trust issues. He would continue to assess her until he was sure that he could trust her without getting hurt. Why he would be willing to do it a second time she had no idea.

              _“That wasn’t your fault, he tried to blow up the school.”_

              Even as it hovered in the back of her mind, she still felt some pity for him. She slipped a pen out of her bag and set about her reply. On the next page she used her usual cursive script to write “the compassionate ones.” She chewed the inside of her cheek, deciding if she should leave it at that. She shook her head, trying to put away her doubts. Then she added, “the parts that loved me.”

              She got out her copy of Anthony and Cleopatra and managed to focus on her annotations for most of her break between classes. Still, she was fairy sure that she was skimming more than usual. Having JD on her mind seemed to eat away at her attention span. That hadn’t changed much in three years.

              When it was time for her next class she could hardly wait to leave. The idea that the book might, just maybe, have been added to when she got back urged her forward. She wondered how long this could go on. The whole thing seemed strange, to pass notes like she was in study hall under the watchful eyes of Ms. Fleming. Then again she didn’t know what she would do if she saw him. The last time she saw him he had been pointing a gun at her.

              “He could have killed me.”

              They watched a movie in her class. They were supposed to be taking notes. Veronica could barely keep her eyes on the screen. She was supposed to write a paper that weekend comparing the film adaptation to the original book. She prayed she would remember enough to pull a B, or that Betty had seen it before.

              She walked slowly to the bench this time, as if an extra minute could make the difference between him answering or not. When she reached the bench there was another book lying beside Moby Dick. She instantly recognized it, shoving both into her bag.

              She walked home with great urgency. She wished she still smoked, the idea of a cigarette made her ache. Back in the day, when JD did things that made her head spin like it was now, a smoke had been one of the only ways she could relax. Now, she felt the most anxious she had since leaving Ohio.

              She walked into the silent apartment and went straight to her bedroom. This was something she wanted to look at with as much privacy as possible. First, Moby Dick. Inscribed on the marked page were the words “Our love is God”, which told her everything she needed to know.

              _“He misses me. He loves me.”_

              She felt a little silly at how that made her chest feel lighter. She would have to face things eventually, and they would need to find out how to move past the things that they had done. Tonight, she just wanted to bask in the fact that he loved her.

              The second book fit perfectly in her lap. She ran her fingers tenderly over the cover, before opening to the first page. She planned to spend the whole night reading it, her old diary, trying to remember who she had been before she was a Heather.

              _“Would that Veronica love him too?”_

 


	5. Maybe

Chapter 5

              Veronica ended up reading her old diary until nearly midnight. The last entry she had read had a vivid description of locking eyes with JD across the cafeteria. It was almost funny now, to think of JD as mysterious, after how close they had been. In another way he was still just as much a mystery to her.

              She woke up with the diary on the floor beside her bed, still in her clothes. She stretched her tired limbs and rolled over to face her door. Her gaze was caught by the ghostly figure of Heather Chandler.

              “You`re an idiot.” Heather was sitting in her desk chair and staring down at her.

              “Good morning to you too.”

              “I seem to remember waking up to a cup of Drain-O some years ago…”

              Veronica wrinkled her nose, “Yeah, I`m sorry. What do you want.”

              “I want to know what the hell you were thinking? We both know I can take a little dive through your head anytime I like, and I do not like what I’m seeing.”

              “I don’t really know what you want from me. You’re dead.”

              “You can’t seriously want to get back with Jesse James?”

              Veronica sat up and swung her legs over the edge of the bed. “Go haunt someone else.”

              Heather narrowed her eyes. “You should be grateful I tried to help you after what you did.”

              Then she was gone, leaving an awkward silence in her wake. There were days when Veronica felt used to it when she saw Heather. Today was not one of those days. Kurt and Ram hadn’t come to bother her in months, which had her suspecting that they had passed on. She had pretty much accepted that the three of them weren’t in her head by the time she graduated, and now it felt eerily normal that she regularly conversed with the dead. Psychologically speaking there was probably something wrong with her. Today her main concern wasn’t her sanity, it was what Heather had to say.

              First of all, the fact that Heather genuinely wanted to help was a little astounding. The only thing she had offered Veronica any assistance with while she was alive was shopping and popularity. There had been more to Heather, though not quite as much as Veronica had put in that note, but it was very rarely visible. This could be one of those times. It could also be that she disliked JD for entirely her own reasons.

              “Murder, as concerns go, might be valid no matter how personal of a grudge it forms though…”

              She tried to mull it over, to get her head in order before she got up. She had slept fairly late and knew Betty would want to talk to her once she made her way into the kitchen. She knew that she missed him, but she had no idea how much of it was because she felt guilty after he died-pretended to die?-or because she really still missed him. Would she have gotten over him if she thought he had been alive this whole time?

              Then there was the fact that he had pulled a gun on her that day. The way he had forced her to drop the bomb on the football field and run for her life seemed heroic in hindsight, but in the moment she really had believed he would kill her. Could she really believe it was an act of love or a way of protecting her?

              Shaking her head in frustration Veronica went to get a cup of coffee. Betty, as expected, was on their couch.

              “Morning.”

              “Morning Veronica!”

              Betty had always been a morning person. When they first started living together it had driven Veronica a little crazy. Now, it made all her mornings feel a little brighter. Living with someone who is genuinely happy to watch the sunrise through the tiny kitchen window and make bad coffee makes the world seem like a good place to live in.

              “Hey Betty? I watched this movie in my class last night and I wanted to know if you had ever seen it.”

              Veronica was thrilled to find out that not only had Betty seen it, she had a copy in her room. The two spent the next three hours curled up on the couch watching it. Veronica didn’t think it was particularly interesting, but it actually managed to take her mind off JD. It even kept Betty from asking about him, though she certainly would at some point.

              When the movie was over Veronica threw together a salad and sat down with her laptop. In between bites she drafted out her paper on that movie, hoping she had hit on all the points her professor had asked the class to discuss.

              By the time she finished it was dinnertime. Since they had plenty of free time during the weekend she and Betty liked to cook dinners together on Saturdays. Betty had gone grocery shopping that morning and picked up the ingredients for spaghetti.

              Veronica chopped fresh Basil and Oregano from the little earth box Betty somehow kept alive in the window. Betty was working together ground beef and breadcrumbs in a bowl to make meatballs.

              “So, did you talk to JD?”

              Veronica sighed, “A little bit. I have no idea where we stand right now.”

              “Do you know where you want to stand?”

              “No.”

              Betty smiled at her, “Poor Ronnie.”

              They both went back to preparing dinner in silence. A few minutes later Veronica spoke again. “I miss him. A lot, sometimes.”

              “I know sweetie.”

              Veronica set the table while Betty drained the pasta and pulled the meatballs out of the oven. The two of them sat down and ate dinner while listening to the radio. It felt comfortable. Veronica loved that about Betty. She was still close with Heather McNamara and Martha Dunstock, but there was always pressure to be talking or out doing something. She and Betty had been best friends for so long that they didn’t have to say a thing to enjoy spending time together.

              After dinner Veronica did the dishes while Betty sat down to study for her chemistry class. Then she went to her room. She liked to get comfortable early even if she was up late, so she threw on a tee shirt and a pair of sweat pants. It was just barely getting dark out by then.

              She sat on her bed with her back against the wall and went back to reading her old diary. The amount of time that had passed since her senior year at Westerberg High seemed impossible. The entries went on to tell the story of her fights with Heather, her annoyance at Kurt and Ram, and her blossoming feelings for JD. In one entry she described him as “the only person worth her notice”  and in another she called his eyes “deep pools”. It all felt cheesy and immature. Still, she felt butterflies in her chest as she remembered.

              She wished, sometimes so much that it made her chest ache, that she could do it all again. To be able to meet JD and start fresh. No murder, no Heathers, none of it. Maybe if they had met sooner he wouldn’t have been as prone to violence. Maybe if she had been different she could have stopped him. They could be sharing their own apartment with cracked floorboards by now, with a cat to curl up by their feet at night.

              “Stop it Veronica, you`re being an idiot.”

              She sat the diary back on her desk and curled up in bed.

              Around midnight she was woken by the sound of her window reluctantly sliding open.

              “Dreadful etiquette, I know.” It was him, JD, and he sounded just the same as when she dreamed of him.

              Veronica practically jumped to her feet. “Shut up.”

              “Veronica, listen to me.” He put his hands out towards her, fingers spread wide. His tone was almost pleading.

              “No, don’t say another word.”

              Then she crossed the distance between him; tangling her fingers in his hair, and giving him a bruising kiss.


	6. Ask Me Anything

Chapter 6

              When they kissed it was like no time had passed, or like they had moved backwards. In that moment they were seventeen and hadn’t a care in the world. JD cradled her waist in his hands, and finally broke for air.

              Veronica shifted backwards, trying to get a look at him. She had fallen asleep with the bedside lamp on, luckily. His hair was exactly the same, dark and messy. His eyes were just as brown and as deep as they had been in high school but somehow they were softer. He wore a white shirt and dark jeans with a grey trench coat.

              “You look exactly how  I remember you” he whispered.

              “What are you doing here?”

              Veronica could feel herself moving back towards him. After years apart the spark was just as intense, and at least for now, she wouldn’t be able to resist him for long.

              “I needed to see you.”

              She kissed him again. It was the only thing to do, the only way to tell him how much she had needed to see him too.

              “You must have a million questions…” he rubbed his thumb in gentle circles on the small of her back.

              “They can wait.”

              He saw the look in her eyes, and gave in instantly. He kissed her again and moved with her towards her bed. She fell backwards onto it and he kissed along her neck.

              Veronica moaned, digging her nails into his back. She hadn’t realized just how desperately she had needed him. She nudged him up, giving her an opening to push off his coat and take off his shirt. He got the hint, she needed it fast and rough tonight.

              JD kicked off his shoes and pants and stripped Veronica, before kissing her again. He pulled her hair as he slid into her, making her arch into him.

              “I love you so much” he murmured into her ear, before thrusting hard enough to make her scream.

              When they had finished, leaving their clothes in a heap on her floor, Veronica found herself lying against his chest. He was warm and she felt safe. Maybe a little too safe considering their history, but something about having his arms around her put her completely at ease.

              “JD?”

              He kissed the top of her head, “yes?”

              “Will you tell me everything?”

              “Anything that you want to know.”

              “How did you find my apartment?” It seemed a little strange to Veronica that it hadn’t even crossed her mind until just now.

              “You`re listed in the student directory at the university.”

              “Well, how did you find out where I went to school?”

              He sighed. “Would you believe me if I said it was an accident?”

              “No, probably not.”

              “Alright, it was only partly an accident.”

              “What exactly does that mean?”

              “I knew where you went to school, I bumped into someone who knew you about a year ago. It did convince me to move down here, but I had been moving a lot. Only, I didn’t expect to find you, or not so easily. The bench you like so much is what I see out of my kitchen window.”

              “So you saw me there on accident? You weren’t following me?”

              “Yes.”

              She liked that. The accident of it, it definitely made her feel like it was magic or fate or something else beyond words. Above all it relieved her to know he hadn’t been watching her, it took away to creepy elements of being watched and made it entirely romantic. At least, she thought it did. Her perception of romance might be a little skewed.

              “You had my diary.”

              It wasn’t a question, she just suddenly thought of it. She couldn’t understand why he had it. It had taken her a week to realize that it was missing, and she had spent a month fearing it would lead to her arrest.

              “To be fair, I thought you were dead. It would have gotten me arrested if anyone found it.”

              “Oh, yeah. Speaking of dead, what the hell did you do back in Ohio?”

              She was, of course, referring to his very realistic faked suicide. If she had believed it he must have planned it very carefully.

              “It was meant to be our escape plan. If the cops were starting to suspect and we needed to get out of town.”

              “Explain it to me.”

              “So, I wrote that sappy little note, and you would have written one too. That was the first part because Sherwood cops seem to think it proves anything at all is a suicide. Then we were going to ditch your car by the river, I was thinking my bike would be our getaway vehicle. Bud wouldn’t have noticed right away if it went missing. Unfortunately I had no choice but to leave my bike.” He grimaced at the image before continuing. “Then dump a few clothes in the river and scatter personal effects near the vehicle, and bam you have one self-drowning incident in the official records. They were supposed to give up on the body pretty fast.”

              “Well, it worked.”

              “I didn’t think you would buy it.”

              “You have too much faith in me.”

              He ran one hand through her hair. “Do you want to know anything else?”

              “Where did you go, after everything?”

              “I had some money saved up so I bought a new bike and rode up to Seattle. I got into an artsy scene up there, made some paintings did some drugs.” He laughed, “You know, that kind of thing.”

              “And then?”

              “Then I decided I liked doing it.”

              “The drugs or the art?”

              “Both. But I got clean and I left, went down into California.”

              She knew the issue with the drugs was more serious than he was letting on, he seemed to eager to skip it, but she would leave it for a later time.

              “What do you do? Like, for work.”

              “Art, surprisingly.”

              “I`d like to see your stuff sometime.”

              “Anytime.” He kissed her tenderly on the lips, “Now, is it my turn?”

              “Yes, I suppose so.”

              So Veronica laid in his arms until the early hours of the morning, telling him everything he could possibly want to know about her life since they had last spoken. It was such a simple thing, and yet it felt like absolute perfection.


	7. Morning

Chapter 7

It was perfect. Veronica hadn’t had such a good night, or a peaceful one, in years. Did it say something about her that the two nicest nights that came to mind both started with breaking and entering? As much as she wanted to hang on to it forever, eventually the sun came up and Veronica had no choice but to leave the night behind her.

JD was still asleep. He was breathing softly with one arm still slung around her waist. This was how they slept, on all the nights that he had snuck into her window, no matter what he would always keep holding onto her.

She stretched and slid out from under his arm. She scooted down to the foot of the bed and stood up from there, climbing over him would be a sure-fire way to wake him up.

She needed a shower. Then when she got back she could talk to JD. She could make him toast and they could try to figure some things out over coffee.

_“What if he leaves before I get back?”_

Veronica frowned. She didn’t want him to leave, especially since she didn’t have any of his current contact information. There was going to be no more leaving notes in books, not after last night. She grabbed a sheet of paper off her desk and scribbled a note which read, “Don’t go anywhere.” And left it on her nightstand.

She grabbed a robe from a hook beside the door, wrapped it around herself, and tried to creep out as quietly as possible. When she got into the kitchen she almost groaned aloud. It was already nearly ten. So much for a productive Sunday morning.

“Is that JD in there?”

The sound of Betty`s voice from the living room made her jump. She had been so preoccupied with JD that she had forgotten about her friend entirely.

_“Oh my god. We were so loud last night…”_

Veronica felt a flush rising on her cheeks when she answered, “Yeah, guilty.”

Betty laughed at her obvious embarrassment, “It sounded like he really missed you.”

Veronica`s mouth dropped open. Betty didn’t usually like to talk about sex in general, so having her sex life analyzed was shocking. “I need a shower.” She practically fled from the room.

“I would think so!” Betty called after her, still consumed with laughter.

JD woke up alone. This wasn’t unusual, on the mornings after he had stayed with Veronica in high school it was the same. She would slip downstairs for breakfast and he would sneak out a little while later. He stood up and started to look for his clothes. Luckily they were all easy to find, not like when Veronica had come in his window.

_“Now that I think about it.. I don’t think that I ever found those boxers.”_

That made him smile. He didn’t want to leave her, but he knew that there would be a next time. He would leave his phone number for her. Maybe, hopefully, she would call him tomorrow. Before he left he decide to take a peek around. It just made him curious to see what Veronica`s room looked like now, he had been too wrapped up in her the night before to pay it any attention.

The first thing he noticed was the nightstand. On it sat a note telling him not to leave. That made him smile too. He folded the note in half and tucked it into his pocket. Turning away from the bed she saw her desk and a wide bookshelf. Even with the shelf space there was still a stack of books on the desk. They were all romances, probably research for the thesis she had told him about. He ran his fingers across the spines, feeling the cracks from how frequently they had been opened. There was a whiteboard above the desk with notes on it. She had the due date for her thesis circled in red at the top. Below it was a few other assignments, and at the bottom was a scribbled drawing of a flower.

_“She must doodle when she`s feeling distracted.”_

JD sat down at her desk, noting that her chair was very comfortable. He opened the drawers until he found her box of dry erase markers. He saw that her journal was in one, but couldn’t bring himself to touch it. She had trusted him enough to leave him alone in here and he would reward that. After he had drawn her a picture that he thought was worthy of her, he put the markers away. He hoped she wouldn’t notice it until later, he just wanted to make her feel inspired the next time she was too frustrated to write.

The smell of coffee came seeping into the room. It made his stomach growl. JD couldn’t resist even though Veronica had told him to stay put.

_“Maybe she just meant to stay in the apartment.”_

He opened the door, expecting to find Veronica in her robe making coffee. Something blissfully domestic, and a little sexy. Instead he discovered that not only did Veronica have a roommate, it was none other than Betty Finn.

_“She couldn’t have mentioned that last night?”_

He knew that it wasn’t actually her fault, he had asked so much about her writing and her polans for the future he had missed the opportunity to ask about her friends. Still, he felt a strange wave of discomfort and guilt. He would have blown this girl to bits three years ago and here she was, in a peach sweater, grinning at him like she was glad to see him.

“Morning.” Her voice was as sunny as her face. “Want some coffee.”

“Yeah, sure. Thank you.”

She pulled down a mug from the cabinet above the sink and filled it. When she held it out to him he accepted it with a smile.

“There`s cream in the fridge if you need it.”

He nodded. He did not need it, but it was good to know. She was trying really hard to be polite, especially considering that he had definitely woken her up last night. It made him feel like the biggest asshole on planet earth.

“So, you and Veronica?” She sat down at a little kitchen table with four mismatched chairs.

 One seat was blocked entirely by stacks of textbooks. They seemed to be an even mix of literature and science, so it must be hers and Veronica`s. He took the seat across from her.

“Yeah.”

She must have sensed that he was anxious for Veronica to get back and settle the strange tension he felt in this conversation. “Ronnie is in the shower.”

“Okay.”

He felt like he was losing his mind. It wasn’t anything to do with Betty, he rather liked her in fact, it was him. He had been trying not to think about Westerberg. All he wanted was to abandon his past and create a future with Veronica. Now here was the nicest girl he could imagine sitting across from him, reminding him of what kind of person he used to be. She never needed to know, but he would find a way to atone for it somehow.

“You really care about her?”

“So much,” he was answering before he could consider what to say, he had no filter where Veronica was concerned. “She`s amazing, shes probably one of the best people I have ever known.”

“She is amazing.”

For what seemed like an eternity they sipped their coffee in silence. Then Betty spoke again. “JD?”

“Yes?”

“I don’t know much about what happened in high school, and its none of my business. But she really trusted you, and you fucked her up bad. She’s trusting you again.” She reached out to grab his wrist, making him jolt in surprise. “If you hurt her again I will kill you.”

She was making strong eye contact, trying to show that she meant business. She had no way of knowing she was threatening an actual murderer, and JD couldn’t help but think on the irony of it, but he had a feeling she would say the same thing even if she knew the truth.

 


	8. Byron

Chapter 8

              Veronica rushed through her shower. She wanted, needed, to get back to him. To the boy asleep in her bed. It was a little bit because she loved him and a little bit more because she was afraid somehow that it would turn out to have been a dream.

              She needed him to be real. More than she had needed anything in a very long time. She also knew that if she stayed too long in the shower old habits would resurface. In high school she had taken long showers when she need a good cry, and would envision his beautiful face sinking into depths far beyond her reach.

              She turned off the water with a shiver. Whether or cold or distress she couldn’t quite tell. She dried off quickly and then wrapped her robe back around herself. Her hair was still dripping wet, so she combed it and twisted it into a quick bun. She didn’t have the patience to bother with a blow-dryer this morning.

              When she returned to the kitchen Veronica was floored. Sitting at the kitchen table, in chairs which had been purchased at various garage sales, were Betty and JD. The two both looked up when she entered and offered her a smile.

              “There’s coffee for you.” Betty gestured to the machine.

              _“Well good, I`m gonna need it.”_

              “Thanks.”

              She had to stand on her tiptoes to reach her mug in the cabinet. She quickly sloshed coffee into it and went to sit down. She ended up between Betty and JD, staring into the mountain of textbooks occupying the better part of the table.

              “Morning.” JD nudged her knee with his under the table.

              “Morning.”

              “So, any fun plans for the day?” Betty was clearing trying to dispel the tension.

              “I assume Veronica is busy with her thesis, I should probably head out soon.”

              “No!” Veronica spoke with a little more urgency than she had actually intended to, “I mean, you don’t have to. If you aren’t busy, you could stay. I’m just waiting on a critique from my advisor, I don’t need to work on my thesis today.”

              “Alright, what do you want to do today?”

              _“You.”_

              “You said I could see your art?”

              “That sounds fun. Once you’re ready we can go to my place and I`ll give you the grand tour.”

              Betty tapped Veronica with her foot under the table, and gave her a sideways glance. “Ronnie, I need to borrow one of your books. Can you help me find it?”

              “Yeah, absolutely.” She allowed her best friend to all but drag her to her bedroom.

              Betty turned to her with wide eyes as soon as the door was shut behind them. “He`s an artist now?”

              “Yeah, apparently. We talked about it last night.”

              “That sounds so romantic.” Betty grinned at her. “What are you going to wear?”

              “Shit, I don’t know. Something I can ride on his motorcycle in.”

              “I`ve got it. One second.”

              Betty moved to her closet and started to rifle through it. Veronica took of her robe and slipped on a pair of underwear and a bra, submitted to being dressed like a doll. Betty handed her a pair of dark jeans and a tight white tee.

              “It`s freezing out, I cant wear a tee shirt.”

              “Shh, one second.”

              Betty was looking for something specific, her tone made that clear enough. Veronica decided it would be a mistake to do anything other than wait patiently, Betty had never steered her wrong before. Finally she made a sound that seemed to mean “aha!” and emerged from the closet. In her hands was a navy blazer than Veronica near never wore and a pair of blue flats. Veronica loved that blazer, it was a lot like the one she had worn at Westerberg, but that was why she could never bring herself to wear it. Today seemed like a good day to finally try.

              She had to admit, she felt pretty when she looked in the mirror. She brushed through her hair and pinned it up more securely, she figured an artist`s studio would come equipped with paint and didn’t need to get it in her hair. No makeup seemed like the best move. She had learned long ago that lipstick was just something for JD to smear across her face.

              “You look perfect.” Betty smiled at her, nabbing a random book off the shelf. “I`ll put this back after you two leave, ok?”

              “Alright. Thank you.”

              JD was waiting for her on the couch. Their mugs had been rinsed and put in the sink, something he would never have bothered with when she had known him before. It made her smile, as little gestures usually did.

              “Ready to go?”

              “Yep.”

              Veronica could feel Betty`s eyes burning into her back with friendly curiosity as JD took her by the hand and led her out of the apartment. Parked just outside was a motorcycle. Unlike the one he had owned before this one was cherry red. JD picked up the single helmet and strapped it onto her head. It made the bobby pins supporting her bun scratch against her scalp, but she figured she could tolerate it for such a short ride.

              She held tight to him as he steered the bike. He drove slower now than he used to, but she still felt free and a little dangerous as they moved through the crowded streets. It was only five minutes later that he pulled into an apartment complex one street over from campus. He parked in front of the building nearest to the rode. It was painted blue with grey false shutters around the windows.

              She swung herself off his bike and stood staring up at the building. She wondered which place was his, and what the inside would look like. She unclipped her helmet and offered it back to him. When he was standing beside her again he put an arm around her waist. He used his arm to gently guide her with him towards a set of stairs at the front of the building. She followed him up the stairs and over to the door of the apartment that sat at the far corner of the building.

              “Oh, crap.”

              “What is it?” Veronica suddenly feared that he had changed his mind, that he didn’t really want to let her see his new life or get to know him again at all.

              “You like dogs, right?”

              “Yes.”

              He let out a breath, and put his key into the door. It swung open silently and he gestured for Veronica to go first. When the door shut behind them they were standing in a small hallway. There was a set of hooks on one wall, JD hung his trench coat and keys from the hook. The other wall had a calendar covered in confusing shorthand. At the end of the hall was a doorway blocked by a small gate.

              “I`m home!” JD called down the hall.

              Veronica heard a jingling sound, and then standing at the gate was a dog. He was a bulldog with stubby legs and cow-like brown and white markings. He wagged his tail at JD expectantly.

              “Hey buddy,” JD stepped to the gate and reached over it to scratch behind his ears. “Veronica, this is Byron.”

              She moved forward to stand next to him. “Like Byron the poet?”

              “Yes. He`s a good boy, but he gets excited when he meets new people.” JD gave her a look, as if asking her permission to open the gate.

              “That’s alright. He seems sweet.”

              JD opened the gate, and the moment he did Byron was standing on her feet and licking her legs. She laughed and dropped to her knees. He snuffled in that way that flat-faced dogs do and she scratched his back. After a few moments he trotted away with a few contented yips.

              JD held out a hand to pull her back to her feet. She stood up into his arms and gave him a soft kiss. She loved this, she loved seeing him being so gentle. It was easy to imagine them together. The idea of falling asleep with him each night, a snoring dog at their feet, was enough to make her light up. Normal was all that she needed.


	9. Change

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I`m so sorry its taken longer than usual to update! I just started a new semester in college and I got bogged down in work. I will definitely keep working on this as much as I can but my chapters might come a little more slowly for awhile

Chapter 9

              As Veronica walked further into his apartment she felt amazed. The boy she had loved in Ohio was a man who knew how to decorate and how to clean. There was a window at the far wall that looked over her campus, and gave a direct view of her bench. Below the window there was a small kitchen table with two chairs. To the left of them was a narrow kitchen counter, a stove, and a refrigerator. Nearer to her was a loveseat and an armchair with an ottoman. The two faced a TV which sat on a low shelf. Byron had hopped onto the ottoman and looked cozy as can be. On the far left wall and the far right wall there were doors facing one other. The door to the left was ajar, showing a large bed with grey sheets through the gap. The door to the right was shut.

              “Want to see the studio?” JD gestured to the right

              “Yes, please.” Veronica was excited. She loved the idea of him creating things.

When he opened the door it revealed another doggy gate. He carefully stepped over it and held out a hand to help her do the same.

“Wow,” she nudged him playfully, “Jason Dean owns two doggy gates.”

“Oh shut up. I don’t want Byron to eat paint, this stuff could kill him.”

Looking around Veronica realized that there was paint nearly everywhere, in one way or another. There were boxes with bottles and brushes sitting on the floor, palettes with dried gobs of paint sitting on a large table in the center of the room, and two tall racks of finished paintings against the wall. This room sat at the corner of the building, it had wide windows on two walls which allowed sunlight to pour in.

“Can I poke around?”

JD laughed, “I wouldn’t have brought you here if you couldn’t.”

She went first to the racks. They had narrow spaces but she could still make out the paintings if she peered in between. The first one that caught her eye was a cemetery. She slid it off the rack. The canvas was very wide and she had trouble holding it. She stared, trying to keep herself calm. It was a classical style painting with beautiful green trees and grass that you could reach out and touch. She knew on sight that it was the cemetery in Sherwood. On a branch in the upper right corner sat three robins, each with a red breast.

“Of course you see that one first.” JD gently rana hand over hers before guiding the painting back onto the rack. “I felt guilty, one night, painting it helped.”

“I get it. I write about them sometimes.”

JD slid a different painting out of the rack and handed it to her. This one was a little smaller, but not by much. It was a park with a little lake. Ducklings glided across the water. There was a bench facing away the from viewer and on it was a young woman. She had dark hair to her shoulders, bound up by a red scrunchie. There was a book in her hands held out in front of her.

“Is this me?” Veronica felt tears threaten to well in her eyes.

“Yes.” JD kissed the side of her head. “I like painting you. It helped when I missed you the most.”

“Are there many more of me?”

JD shrugged. “There are a few. I tossed some, or painted over them, if I didn’t like how they turned out. One sold, but you can’t tell that it’s you so don’t worry about that.”

She continued glancing through, ignoring the admittedly lovely landscapes and portraits. There was even a very sweet one of Byron asleep in front of a fire. The next one she pulled out was her, which was what she had been looking for. She had this strange feeling that if she could understand how he painted her she would know exactly how he was feeling about everything. This painting brought a rush of pain to her chest. It showed her in a narrow blue dress, something that made her think of ancient Greece. In her hand was a scale, like the one Lady Justice holds. Her fingers appeared to be releasing it, and her mouth was open in shock. Covering the eyes, her eyes, was a ghostly hand.

“JD.”

He shifted as he watched her look at the painting, offering no response. She didn’t know what to say. She knew that he felt guilty, at least sometimes. She had no idea how she had expected to be able to have a future with someone she had such a chaotic past with. Only that she wanted to try.

“JD. This is…” She sat the painting down. “This painting is wrong.”

“What are you talking about?”

“You didn’t blind me. You didn’t trick me.”

“I lied to you.”

“About Kurt and Ram. Yes. But I still wanted them dead, if you had told me the truth you probably could have convinced me. I hate it, so much, but you were right about all the things you said in the car afterwards.”

“I lied about Heather.”

“What?”

“I saw the cup when you were taking it upstairs. I saw it and I didn’t tell you.”

“JD.” She let out a deep breath. She had always wondered, suspected, so she wasn’t as shocked as she maybe should be. “I wanted her gone. You`ve had my journal this long, I`m sure you’ve seen the entry where I confess to wanting to kill her.”

“I changed you.”

She stepped close enough to press her hands to his chest. “I love you anyways. We have both changed since Ohio, we`re never going down that road again. We are the only two people who can really understand or forgive each other now. So please, trust me?”

He answered her with a kiss, moving his hands to her hair. She gasped, pressing herself closer. After a moment her hands began to search for the hem of his shirt.

He broke away. “Ronnie, we cant have sex in the studio.”

She laughed “When did you get so reasonable?”

He cast her a long fond look. “Can I do something?”

“Yeah. What is it?”

“I want to paint you.”

She laughed, “you have painted me.”

He rolled his eyes. He walked to the corner of the room and pulled out a small chair. It was probably an antique, but the kind that you can buy at a garage sale for twenty bucks. It was wide with a cloth back and wooden arms. He dragged it so that it sat in front of one window, and gestured Veronica to sit.

“Come on baby, just humor me.”

She walked to him and kissed his jaw. “Alright.”

JD walked back towards the door. With his back to her, he searched for a blank canvas and the exact paints that suited him. Veronica decided her one and only goal was to surprise him. He made her want to be spontaneous in a way that no one else ever had. Before he could turn around she stepped out of her clothes, leaving a pile on the floor, and settled into the chair.

When he turned around he was at a loss for words. She was the most beautiful he had ever seen her, confident and relaxed with the sunlight streaming over her skin. He couldn’t believe that she really wanted him to paint her like this, but the idea of holding this image forever was immensely satisfying.

“Veronica, you are going to be the death of me.”


	10. A Future

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I am sooo sorry it took me so long to update this. I finally have a break from classes so expect frequent updates, this story will definitely be given a happy ending in the near future.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry that the formatting on this is slightly different, I couldn't get it to keep my indentations when I uploaded it.

Chapter 10

JD still couldn’t believe his luck. After letting him paint her, a piece which he thought had turned out rather nicely, Veronica returned to peering about his apartment. She examined the mugs he had collected across his travels, and the painted ashtray resting on the windowsill, and the cookbooks hidden below the counter. She did all of this with Byron trailing close behind her. She stopped occasionally to scratch behind his ears.

“He likes you.”

She turned to laugh at him, resting her hips against the kitchen counter, “the feeling is mutual.”

“So, what do you think?”

“What do I think of what?”

He sighed, “the apartment, the art, all of it.” He bit his lip for an instant before continuing. “Clearly I don’t have to ask about Byron, but what about me?”

“Well Byron has a cleaner rap sheet…” When he frowned she stopped and her face grew serious. “Its good. All of it. I`m serious, you`re doing a lot better than I had imagined when I found out you were alive.”

“What exactly does that mean?”

She walked past him to settle on the couch. “I think we need to sit and talk.”

He and Byron were right behind her. “Anything you want to say, or ask, I can handle.”

“You want to live this kind of life? To be ordinary and patient, have a dog and a small business and learn to make pasta from scratch?”

“Yes. I didn’t think that I would, not at first. The painting was just something to do at first, especially when I realized I could make cash off it. Then, do not laugh at me, I realized I could use it as a way to release some of my emotions in a healthy way.”

“That sounds like therapy talk.”

He shrugged, “yeah, I picked it up over the years. As for the rest of it, the apartment was just an upgrade. I was trying to do better and finding a permanent place to live, one without roaches, seemed like the best first step. Byron was an accident.” He ran a hand over the dog`s head fondly. “The second night I was here I had the window open while I smoked and I heard him barking. He was just a tiny puppy wandering around in the dark. I think someone dumped him on the side of the road…”

Veronica felt her heart swell. This new warmth in JD soothed so many of her fears. “So you brought him here?”

“Of course. I gave him a bath and let him sleep in my bed. The next morning I took him to the vet and got him microchipped, and we`ve been roommates ever since.”

She laughed at that. “He seems good. You seem good.”

“I am good. Are you?”

“I am. I took classes last summer, rather than go back to Sherwood, and now I`m about to graduate early.”

“That’s wonderful.” His smile was genuine and broad.

“Yeah? I guess I just have to figure out the career part.”

“You should write a book.”

“People keep telling me that, but all that comes to mind is murder mystery. That’s not something I want to put myself through.”

He nodded sympathetically, “you`ll think of something, don’t stress.”

“Easy for you to say, you have it all figured out.”

“Do I?”

She chewed the inside of her lip. “Actually, there`s one thing I’m worried about?”

“Which is?”

“You mentioned drugs?” She shot him a look that begged him not to be offended.

“It`s been a year. I`m fine now.”

“Are you sure? Because if not I don’t think…” she cut herself off before she could say anything which might embarrass her later.

He touched her hand. “I promise. The therapy talk comes from my stints in rehab, which I have no intention of repeating. You have nothing to worry about.”

They sat in thoughtful silence for a moment, broken only by the sound of Byron breathing heavily between them. “Wait. You don’t think what?”

She grimaced. “I`d rather not say.”

“Please tell me.”

“Fine. I don’t think we can have a future if drugs are still in the picture.”

“You want us to have a future?”

“Yes.”

He leaned to her and kissed her softly on the lips. “Good.”

“What are we going to do?”

“Move in with me?”

She looked at him in stunned silence, which he punctuated with what he hoped was a convincing kiss.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please let me know what you guys think.


	11. Yes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> once again, so sorry about the formatting.

Chapter 11

“I don’t know what to say.” It was the truth, she was stunned. The idea of living with JD made her heart race, but there was so much to consider. They had only just been reunited and it seemed like such a large step, and so quickly.

“Then don’t answer. Just think about it and tell me when you’ve made up your mind.”

“Alright.”

“Can I make you some dinner?”

“Sure.” The day had raced by, and it was already starting to get dark.

“How does pasta sound?”

“Perfect.”

“I really do know how to make homemade pasta you know.”

Veronica laughed, but truthfully she was a little in awe. It was easy to pass the time as he cooked. She say on the couch with Byron is her lap, watching JD at work. He looked natural there, like he had always been an artist who knew what he was doing with his life, and not the teenager she had known.

It made her a little jealous. She had imagined him as a wreck. Her wildest imaginings had settled him as a hitman, a drug dealer, or something like that. Not this. The man in front of her was so domestic, and calm, and altogether figured-out. As much as she envied him she was also aware that it made her want him even more. It would be so easy to say yes. To move in with him, and to pick up where they had left off-only so much better.

“You look very cozy.” Heather Chandler griped.

_“Stop it.”_

She laughed. “Is it so easy to forget? He learns to hold a paintbrush and put on an apron and suddenly its as if he didn’t commit three murders?”

_“He loves me.” Veronica was surprised by her own conviction._

“And that makes it better?”

_“He`s changed. I`ve changed. I want to moved on.” Veronica felt angry tears creep into the corners of her eyes. She prayed JD would stay in the kitchen until she could compose herself._

“You love him?”

_“Yes.”_

“Fine then. Accept whatever consequences that brings.”

Heather disappeared, for what she sensed would be the final time. Veronica was relieved but a little sad. There had been a time, however long ago, that they had been best friends-in a way. Heather was really and truly gone now. It also meant that her time being forced to dwell on Sherwood Ohio was over. She was free to build whatever future she chose.

She ran her fingers through the soft fur on Byron`s head, looking into his warm brown eyes. If he was any indication  JD had become exactly the kind of person she needed him to be. She could do this.

He spent the entirety of dinner asking her questions about her thesis. He had read the books that she had chosen, and found her premise genuinely interesting.

“Where did the idea come from?” He leaned across the table towards her.

“Which part?”

“The thing about violence being associated with courtship.”

“Oh.” She thought about her dream and her cheeks grew red.

“Is it embarrassing?” He paused, a crease forming between his brows. “Is it something to do with another guy? You don’t have to say if it is, I understand.”

“No, it`s not that.” She sighed. “I`m sure whatever you’ll imagine is worse than the truth so I may as well just tell you.”

              “I`m intrigued.”

              “It came from a dream I had, about you, after we started passing notes in Moby Dick.”

              His face fell, which confused Veronica. She had expected him to feel triumphant about the dream, especially because the explicit tone of the dream was fairly clear.

              “You associate me with violence.”

              _“Oh.”_

              “It`s not like that…”

              He stopped her before she could continue. “Please, don’t. It`s fine. With the way that I behaved in the boiler room, no wonder. I had been so angry about Kurt and Ram and then I treated you in nearly the same way.”

              “I don’t want to talk about that.”

              He didn’t look convinced by her tone. The guilt on his face was clear, and she needed it gone. If they could forgive each other for murder she could forgive him for that. She just had to make him see. With an impulsiveness she couldn’t contain Veronica leaned across the table and kissed him hard on the mouth.

              “Ronnie…” He let out a soft sigh, “do you want to stay the night?”

              When she woke up the next morning she felt blissful. Light from the bedroom window streamed onto her face and gently woke her. The blankets of JD`s queen-sized bed felt warm and soft against her bare skin. She rolled over hoping to kiss him awake, and found Byron in his place. He greeted her with frenzied licks, which made her laugh in spite of the fact that it made her face feel slimy.

              Reaching over him she found a post-it note on JD`s nightstand. It read _“Don’t go anywhere.”_ She sighed. “Looks like its just you and me for a while Byron.”

              She slipped out of bed, looking for something to throw on. It was a little after nine so staying in something casual seemed like a reasonable choice. She found her panties on the floor, and put on JD`s abandoned t shirt with them. The image of him seeing her that way made her smile.

              Wandering into the kitchen she found a mug of coffee waiting in front of the microwave. It has gotten cold, so she threw it in for thirty seconds. Settling onto the couch, Byron immediately in her lap, she decided to call Betty.

              “Ronnie! Glad to her you alive.” She picked up the phone in a gleeful tone, which seemed to beg for details.

              “Sorry for not calling last night. I ended up staying at JD`s.”

              “And where are you now?”

              “On his couch. With his dog. He isn’t home.”

              “Oh my goodness, tell me everything.”

              “He`s perfect. Like really actually perfect. He`s an artist now, he showed me his studio. The dog, Byron, is just about the sweetest thing I have ever met. He made me homemade pasta.”

              “Oh Ronnie.” Her smile could practically be heard through the phone.

              “And you will never guess what else. He asked me to move in with him.”

              “And?”

              She took a moment to gather her thoughts. “And it feels like its too soon. Besides, I couldn’t just leave you like that.”

              “Veronica Sawyer. Don’t use me as an excuse. This is a big step, a huge one, and it is soon… but if you want to do it do it. I was talking to Martha the other day, and she`s been looking for a place in the city. If you tell him yes she can move into your room, so it’s not as if you’d be abandoning me to deal with finding a roommate or paying the rent.”

              “Okay.”

              “So?”

              “I`m going to do it.”

              “Call me soon.” Betty hung up with a click.

              Veronica walked to the sink to clean her now empty mug. A moment later she heard the front door open, and Byron answer it with joyful barks. JD crossed the apartment quickly. He wrapped his arms around her front behind and pressed a kiss to her shoulder.

              “Did you sleep well?”

              “Wonderfully.”

              “I hope Byron didn’t wake you up? He ran into my room when I left and I was afraid moving him back to the couch would wake you for sure.”

              “Not at all, he was an angel.”

              The dog in question bounced in excited circles at their feet.

              “JD?”

              “Yes?”

              “I want to move in.”

              He answered her with a tender kiss, which she felt herself smiling into.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> please let me know what you all think :)


	12. The End

              Moving all of her boxes into the apartment had been easy. She had a box of clothes, a box of shoes, three of books, and one bookshelf. She left the bed and desk for Martha, she wouldn’t need them at JD`s anyways. They were currently stacked in the middle of the living room.

              “Want me to start putting your clothes in the closet?” JD reached for the box before she answered.

              “Is there space?”

              “Ronnie I own maybe three nice shirts, the rest of my clothes are in the dresser. I wouldn’t have asked you to move in if I wasn’t sure you`d have enough room.” He laughed lightly.

              “Sorry, packing stresses me out.”

              “Why don’t you start putting away books? That seems more your speed.”

              He had helped her to place the tall shelf carefully against the wall nearest the couch. It looked strange, and looming, while it stood there empty. Veronica dragged boxes carefully over to it and began to unpack. She decided to organize her books into categories, running her hands across the cover of each one as she placed them gently on the appropriate shelf.

              “I`m all done.” JD emerged from his-their- bedroom as she opened the last box.

              “Wonderful. I`m getting there.”

              He dropped to sit on the floor beside her, Byron close behind him. He pressed a light kiss to her cheek and then watched her handle her books.

              “I hope I`m not boring you already?”

              He sighed. “You`re too much today, of course not.”

              She laughed, “and you take me too seriously.”

              “My mistake.” He laughed back.

              Less than an hour later Veronica was completely unpacked. Her books filled the shelf, with a few on the coffee table and nightstand that she had been meaning to read. Her few mugs, each with some funny phrase that had caught her eye, and her Shakespeare refrigerator magnets were safely tucked away in the kitchen. Venturing into the bedroom she took in the changes JD had made. The closet to the left of the bed stood open, showing her clothes sorted by color. The bottom drawer of his dresser also revealed carefully folded rows of her clothing, and her shoes were sitting on a shoe rack that he had recently purchased.

              Their bed was different too, JD had added two more pillows and thrown her quilt over the foot. It had been a Christmas gift from her mother several years ago and its presence made the room feel like home. The exhaustion of the day finally hit her and Veronica kicked off her shoes and flopped into bed.

              JD, in worn sweats, came to join her. He laid down on his side of the bed and she rolled to face him. “I love you.”

              “I love you too. I`m really glad that you`re here.”

              Veronica laughed when she felt the impact of Byron jumping onto the foot of the bed.

              JD reached down to scratch his head. “Do you mind if he sleeps here?”

              “No, not at all. He can sleep here every night of its where he`s comfortable.”

              JD quirked a brow, “well maybe not every night.”

              Feeling a little like a sixteen-year-old she swatted his arm with a giggle. “I`m too tired tonight, don’t tease me.”

              “So you move in and now we`re an old married couple? ‘not tonight dear, I`m too tired.’ ‘not tonight, I have a headache.’ And all that?” He punctuated what seemed to be mediocre impressions of 1950s housewives by bringing his hand dramatically to his forehead. He barely finished before they both burst out laughing.

              “You`re a dork.”

              “I know.”

              “Seriously, I`m glad that I moved in.”

              “Good.” His face suddenly became intense, and he brought a hand to rest gently on her cheek. “I couldn’t imagine myself having a future without you, and I was so afraid that you would change your mind.”

              Veronica scooted closer to him, “you think about our future?”

              “I always have.”

              “Tell me about it?”

              He smiled. “I knew I was going to marry you, even in Ohio. Especially now. I hope that’s not too much to say? I know you only just moved in but, I don’t see myself with anyone else. Not ever.”

              Veronica nodded, urging him to go on.

              “You don’t seem like the big wedding type, and neither am I really, so I usually picture a quiet affair. Close friends and family, maybe at the beach or in a national park. Hell, we might be able to swing getting married in the home of a long-dead famous novelist or a museum. Somewhere like that, somewhere romantic that really reflects us. We could go wherever you wanted for our honeymoon, I`ve had so many ideas over the years. When we were first dating I thought I`d recreate the setting of your favorite book, but then I realized that your ‘favorite’ is usually just what you read last, and that can change in under a week.”

              _“This might be the sweetest thing anyone has ever said to me.”_

              “And after that?”

              “I want to build a life with you. We could find a small town somewhere, buy an old house, and fix it up together. I have a pretty steady hand with a paintbrush,” she laughed at that, which made him smile, “and I know my way around a toolbox. It would be very classic on the outside, the whole blue house with white shutters thing maybe, and the inside could be as eclectic as we wanted. It would have to be big. I need studio space, and I want you to have an office. You need a sanctuary, for writing the next great American novel. Then of course a yard for Byron, and a porch to grow whatever plants we remember to water, and a big kitchen, and space for kids.”

              “We have kids?”

              “We could. I`d like for us to.” He smiled shyly, afraid he had finally said too much.

              “I like kids.”

              “We would be great parents. Our kids would be beautiful and brave, and between the two of us they would probably end up being very creative. Having an author and a painter for parents seems like a warm home environment, huh?”

              “I can`t imagine a better one. I can`t bake though.”

              “hm?”

              “Aren`t moms supposed to make cookies and all that?”

              “I can do that. I`ll be the fun dad who teaches the kids to make cookies and brownies and lets them decorate them with icing and candy.”

              The more he spoke the easier it was for Veronica to imagine it. The house he dreamed up existed somewhere, and she wanted it. She wanted a big warm house full of the smell of hot baked goods, and children who got to finger paint and hear the bedtime stories she would write for them.

              “Ronnie?”

              She realized she had gone silent. “You`re such a hopeless romantic.”

              “Guilty.”

              “JD?”

              “Yes?”

              “Let`s do it.”

              With a startled grin he pulled her into a kiss. Veronica closed her eyes, and felt herself melt into his hands. Here with JD, like this, everything just felt right. They had done things in Ohio she didn’t want to have to think about, but it felt like lifetimes ago. She wasn’t sure if they deserved the future that he had imagined for them but she couldn’t bring herself to dwell on that thought. All she knew was that he had found her again, he still loved her, and she wanted to grow old with him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> there it is! I didn't originally intend for this to be the last chapter but it just felt so natural. If you guys want an epilogue please let me know and I`ll try to write one to give a better image of the life that see them having :)


	13. Chapter 13

              There really was something to be said for Veronica`s party planning skills. JD was blown away. No matter how many times he watched her sit at the table and start brainstorming, it always felt like magic to see her ideas come to life. He had helped, of course, he always painted banners and made whatever centerpieces she decided created the perfect atmosphere.

              He gazed out across the room with a sigh of delight. There was a small dance floor and microphone near the front, and then more than a dozen tables. They were round, set with a white tablecloth, with centerpieces of bright daisies and sunflowers. On the wall behind the dance floor, in clear view of all their guests, was a slideshow showing all of their pictures.

              “Honey,” the woman in question caught his arm, pressing a kiss to his cheek, “We need to sit down. People want to give toasts.”

              So they settled themselves at the table nearest the front, where the nametags he had meticulously painted marked their seats. He held her hands in his, and still felt that warmth bloom in his chest the way it always had.

              “Hi everybody!,” Betty was quickly at the microphone, “I have the honor of giving the first toast. It is my right as Veronica`s very best friend.” She blew a kiss their way with a laugh. “I also gave the first toast at their wedding, so maybe it`s tradition. Anyways, I wanted to tell a story to start us off. When Veronica first decided to move in with JD she swore that she had no idea what she was going to do without me. She cried, and I cried, like the twenty-something girls we were. She said she was going to call me every single day, because otherwise she might go crazy living with a boy. JD, good natured as he is, listened to all of this with a smile on his face.” Their friends roared with laughter and Veronica reddened.

              “Anyways,” Betty continued. “She did not. She called me a week later, because she had been so wrapped up in JD that she forgot me completely. So, I would like to think that by making her move out I contributed at least a little to this couple right here, who are still so in love it`s almost nauseating.” She laughed “I love you two, and I am beyond happy for you. Everyone please join me in toasting Veronica and JD, happy thirtieth anniversary.”

              The other guests roared with excitement and the sound of clinking glasses filled the room.

              “You were pretty mean that day.” JD whispered in her ear.

              Veronica laughed, “But here we are. You put up with me pretty well.”

              He pulled her hand to his mouth and kissed it lightly. A gag could be heard at the microphone. They looked up to see their daughter pretending to stick a finger down her throat, gesturing to their embrace. She was 28 with a bright personality, and their pride and joy.

              She spoke as soon as the laughter stilled. “Hello everyone, I`m Elizabeth. As the oldest kid I get to go next. I want to thank my parents for being kind, patient, people who always encouraged me to succeed. Sorry if that sounds cheesy or anything, but it’s the truth. As you all know, because they never shut up about it, I was recently featured in a local gallery and a lot of my work sold. That`s something I feel like I achieved because of my parents.”

              Veronica wrapped an arm around his waist and leaned closer.

              “When I was little, probably three or four, I told my dad I was going to be a famous artist. He went out and bought me my first real paint set, and he made a spot for me in the studio. I`m sure I was bad, but he made it so fun. I was always in there practicing because he helped me love it. That`s why I`m the artist I am today. My mom is probably the best writer I have ever known, and if you haven’t read her novels yet shame on you, and she sat up with me for hours helping me edit college applications. She`s probably the only reason I actually got into art school. I think the best way to be a parent is to be nurturing, and that is my parents exactly. The two of them could dote on anything. Me, my brother and sisters, their dogs, my kids, their herb garden,” a laugh rang out at this, “and I am eternally grateful. You two are the very best team, and its made you the best parents and grandparents anyone could ask for. Happy anniversary mom and dad.”

              When she came to sit at the table beside them JD gave her a quick hug. “We love you Beth, that was sweet.”

              Veronica squeezed her hand, tears in her eyes.

              “Well, looks like it`s me.” Their son, 24 year old Roger, looked bashfully out at the crowd. “I`m not Beth, don’t expect me to be great at the whole talking in front of everybody thing. I just wanted to say how happy I am too see my parents together. You two definitely taught us a lot about love. Did you all know,” he gestured to the audience, “that my father makes breakfast every morning? Every single morning. My entire childhood I woke up to the smell of something delicious, and found my sitting at the kitchen table sipping coffee with a dog on her feet reading him the paper while he cooks. If she`s sick he makes her breakfast in bed, and if he`s sick she has to order him out of the kitchen.”

              He beamed directly at them, “It`s just one thing, but it`s what makes me think of you two. You love each other so much, and I cant imagine you ever changing. Happy anniversary.”

              He gratefully joined them at the table, sitting to Veronica`s right. His fiancée, Joan, gave him a quick kiss on the cheek. “That was wonderful darling.”

              Veronica smiled at them and he rolled his eyes, “I love you mom, but don’t start on us about grandkids. You already have Tony and Rachel.”

              JD laughed at that. “Who, me?” Veronica feigned innocence, rubbing his shoulder affectionately.

              “Hi everyone,” their 20 year old daughter Alexandra gripped the microphone, “thank you for coming. I`m Alex, the middle daughter. I just wanted to thank you all for coming out to celebrate with my parents. I`m not one for talking either, though nobody is quite as bad as Roger,” he blushed, and their friends laughed, “so I just have a small story. My first memory is sitting on a blanket in our yard, with three dogs. And that was pretty much my childhood. Wherever I was, whatever I was doing, there was always a dog. My parents had one dog when they got married, but by the time Angie was born there was five. I don’t think I`ve ever seen my mom reading without a dog on her feet or in her lap, and my dad is always feeding the dogs while he cooks. I`ve heard it said that animals can tell what kind of person you are, and I think your unending string of pets makes it pretty clear that you`re some of the best. I`m so glad that you found each other, and I love you both, Happy anniversary.”

              She settled in to the left of Will, Beth`s husband, who gave her an affectionate nudge. She smiled and reached to take Rachel, her three year old niece, from his lap. Beth excused herself, and JD took the sleeping two year old Tony from her. Veronica ran her fingers through his curls, careful not to disturb him.

              “Hi, I`m Angela, the baby of the family.” Their youngest daughter was 18 and a freshman in college, “I guess I`m the last speaker. So I have to pick a really good story, huh?” She paused for a moment, brushing her hair from her face, and then smiled. “When my dad was driving me to buy all my college supplies last summer he told me the most romantic story I have ever heard. When he and my mom first moved in together he promised her that they would find an old house in a small town and fix it up together, and that he would paint it for her. They bought that house a year later, got married, and raised us there. He painted murals in each of our bedrooms when we were born. Beth`s room is a sunny forest, Roger`s is a space scene, Alex`s is a mountain-top, and mine is a meadow full of flowers. He repaints my mother`s study in the same soft blue every other year so that it won`t fade, and I swear that there`s something funny painted on the inside of every cabinet door. If you visit them look for the monkey in the upstairs bathroom.”

              The guests laughed, and she went on. “If my father is painting my mother is running behind him putting away his paints. He always tells her she doesn’t need to, but she can`t help it. I can`t picture my parents anywhere other than the house that they built, and the fact that my dad dreamed it up while they were still living in Chicago feels like magic. You did it. Happy anniversary.”

              Veronica leaned to kiss JD softly on the lips, and applause and laughter filled the room.

              “Before we let these two lovebirds go back to dancing and whispering in each other’s ears…” Angie looked quickly to her right, where the door was open to the lobby, “We have a surprise for them.”

              At that Beth came in, holding something large. It looked like a canvas, but was covered by a large cloth. The two girls held it between them, facing the crowd with a smile.

              “Just a little something from all of us” Beth said with a smile.

              Angie reached out and pulled down the cloth, revealing a large painting. It showed JD and Veronica, as young as when they had first been married, settled beneath a large tree. They were on a picnic blanket and at their feet was a large bulldog. He was instantly recognizable as Byron, the beloved family dog who had died just before Alex was born.

              Looking closer, it became clear that the leaves of the tree were made up of handprints, each of which was labelled in beautiful cursive which they recognized as Roger`s handwriting. There was still space at the edges for more hands to be added, a thought which made Veronica smile.

              “Thank you. All of you. It`s so beautiful.” Tears filled Veronica`s eyes as she looked at her children. The girls set the painting carefully against the wall and rejoined them at the table.

              JD passed Tony to Beth and stood up, champagne flute in one hand. “Thank you all so much for coming. I`ll keep it brief. I could not imagine any other life for myself than the one that I have, it is everything I have wanted for as long as I have known Veronica. I think I speak for us both when I say we intend to keep things up exactly like this, we will be writing, cooking, painting, raising dogs, growing plants, spending time with our beautiful children and grandchildren, for many many years to come. We love you all.” He raised his glass with a smile. “So Veronica, my love, thank you for making me the happiest man on earth. Thank you for being brave enough to marry me all those years ago, for being the mother of my children, and my muse. Because of you I get to wake up next to the most beautiful woman in the world every morning for the rest of my life. Happy anniversary.”

              She stood up into his arms, giving him a kiss as she did. She saw it in his eyes, that he meant every word of it. She was in her fifties now, her roots were going gray, but he still looked at her exactly the same way as when they were teenagers.

              “I`m a writer, not a speaker.” She was met with laughter, “but I have no shortage of things to say about JD. She looked into his eyes as she spoke. You were my first love, and my only love. You are the reason I finally sat down to write my first novel, you are the person who made me want to learn to cook, you bought me my first puppy, you gave me four beautiful children…” she trailed off with a sigh. “You told me once that you had always known you wanted to marry me. I don`t always understand how you were so sure, but I`m glad that you knew. I can`t imagine a better life than the one that we`ve shared, and I look forward to the rest of our lives together. I love you, happy anniversary.”

              The applause roared around them as they shared another kiss.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so that`s the end. I think it was a good finish, I really hope you all liked it.

**Author's Note:**

> let me know what you guys think!


End file.
